Christmas Revelations
by RbtlSR
Summary: Christmas story time! Stiles and Spencer both realize something important during their group therapy sessions that they have to tell their boyfriends. Fluff and smut ensue, not necessarily in that order.
1. Meetings

**A/N:** This story was a Christmas present to my friend Alex. Her tumblr can be found at .com

It's finished, so I'll probably publish a chapter every few days

I hope you enjoy it!

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_-December 23, 2012 5:55pm-_  
Derek Hale tapped his foot impatiently. The man next to him glanced over sympathetically. He'd exchanged a few words with the guy before. Like him, the guy was built and looked out of place in the small chairs obviously meant for children, and like him, the other guy was the only other one who always sat in the waiting room for the entire hour. He knew that Stiles could drive himself, but he was often emotionally exhausted after the group therapy sessions, and Derek didn't want to make him drive home alone after that. He was actually relieved that Stiles had even agreed to go to counseling after Derek had been woken up countless nights by his crying, let alone agreeing to let Derek drive him. Not that he blamed him: losing family left problems that became raw nerves, even years later. He would know. He was rambling in his head again… Stiles must be rubbing off on him.  
He struggled not to smirk as the darker skinned man shifted uncomfortably. "Not the best chairs, huh?" He offered. He knew he looked surly and difficult to approach, but hey, he was trying. "Yeah," the other man, conceded, glancing at his watch, and continued "but, hey, at least we only have another five minutes." This guy had been in the waiting room, sitting quietly, every week for the entire hour for the two months since Derek had convinced Stiles to come to the meetings. Maybe it was time to introduce himself. Derek reached out a hand for a handshake, and the other man reached back and shook it firmly. Pleased, Derek spoke, "Derek Hale." The other man's eyebrows rose subtly. "Derek Morgan, nice to meet you." Huh. Another Derek. He smirked, continuing the conversation, "So, um? You waiting for your kid?" He was suddenly uncomfortably aware of the fact that after two months of waiting rooms with this guy he had no idea who he left with, his focus always instantly diverted to Stiles. "Um, not quite," the other man, Derek, laughed uncomfortably. At a raised eyebrow's question, he continued, "uh, Spencer, my boyfriend." It was the werewolf's turn to laugh. The other Derek looked ready to slug him before he had a chance to catch himself and explain, "No, not laughing at you. The person I'm waiting for - Stiles - he's my boyfriend." The man's eyes widened in understanding and he gave a small smile in return.  
At that moment the clock struck 6pm and the doors to the meeting room opened, and they both stood up to find their respective boyfriends.


	2. Apprehension - Derek Morgan

Morgan jumped up as soon as the doors opened, quickly forgetting the strangeness of the surly twenty-something man with whom he shared a name and sexual orientation. His eyes scanned the crown and he quickly spotted the mop of brown hair that he loved so much. He made eye contact, and within a few seconds had the slim body in his arms. "Hey, Pretty Boy." He greeted, his way of testing the waters. He never knew when a meeting had been particularly emotionally exhausting for Spence, and he didn't want to push him. He was greeted with an enthusiastic hug back, with a quick kiss. So, the session had been a positive one. Sometimes Spencer came out with tear stains on his cheeks and didn't talk to him for the rest of the day. Those days were the reason he came to the meetings and waited in the waiting room with the creepy guy every time; he didn't want Spencer alone and driving after that kind of meeting. He knew it was part of the therapeutic process, and he was glad that Spencer was finally confronting his issues from childhood that had caused him to continue with the dilaudid, but that didn't mean that it hurt his heart any less whenever he saw Spencer crying. Today Spencer was in a good mood though, so he pushed those thoughts away. "So, tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Can I treat you to dinner?" Morgan was a bit taken aback by this offer, but if Spencer was in the mood he wasn't going to turn it down. A few minutes later he pulled the car into their favorite place, The Roadhouse, a little diner on the side of the road. To be honest, he was kind of glad Spencer wanted to stop for dinner because the snow was coming down heavily now, and it wasn't something he was that thrilled about driving in.  
Their weather-appropriate food, a grilled cheese with tomato soup for Reid and a stew for Derek, was delicious, as it always was at The Roadhouse. After they finished the older man looked up and realized that Spencer was biting his lip. Derek reached for his hand under the table, unsure what had gone wrong.  
Deep brown eyes met his through shaggy bangs as the younger agent looked up at him, still biting his soft, deliciously soft and kissable – fuck, Derek, get it together, something serious could be going on here – He waited for the other man to speak. Finally it came, "I… have something that I need to tell you." Derek's heart jumped and twisted in his chest, and he suddenly regretted the food that was making him so contentedly full just seconds before. Spencer continued, "… but not here. I'll tell you when we get back to your place… if you're okay with me coming over, I mean." His mind raced through anything he'd done wrong, anything that could make Spencer give him that look. Was there another man?


	3. Apprehension - Derek Hale

The first thing that Derek noticed as Stiles scrambled into the passenger seat of the jeep was how unusually full of energy he was. Stiles was usually energetic anyway, but it was unexpected after such a long day and a therapy session. Still, Derek wasn't complaining, because as irritated as he could pretend to get at the boy, a happy Stiles left a warm tingle in his heart, the same place where a sad Stiles seemed to create a bottomless ache. Stiles practically bounced in his seat as Derek turned the keys in the ignition. Unable to resist the childish urge, the werewolf reached out and ruffled that teen's hair. Stiles pulled back and stuck his tongue out at Derek, coaxing a rumbling laugh his chest, dissolving his usually-sullen expression into a smile. Stiles beamed back, enjoying the simplicity of the good mood between the two of them. He bounced a bit again before stating as a question, "Taco Bell?" At this point he could practically hear Derek's eyes roll, but sure enough, Derek swung a hard right as they passed the fast food joint.  
Stiles met Derek's eyes over a bite of his Crunchwrap. Derek laughed and pointed, causing Stiles to frantically swipe at his mouth until he wiped away the nacho cheese that had been smudged on his chin. Then Derek stopped laughing and their eyes locked and it was too much, making Stiles blurt out, "We need to talk," then taking in Derek's crestfallen look, before adding, "No, not like that. I just have something I need to tell you. Not here though." He was met with a swift nod, but the breadth by which Derek broke the speed limit driving home told a different story than the calm composure plastered on his face.


	4. Apprehension - Spencer Reid

**A/N: **Publishing two chapters at once because this one was so short.

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Reid tried not to bounce impatiently on the drive back. He'd already run through all the possible ways that this could play out, and mentally arranged them from most to least likely based on prior data. It would most likely to out well. So why was he so nervous? He wondered if the kid from therapy had told his Derek yet; they were both doing it tonight after all, so he couldn't even back out.


	5. Apprehension - Stiles Stilinski

Miles away, Stiles didn't even resist the urge to bounce impatiently as his mind drifted back to his therapy sessions. A few weeks ago he'd found out that another guy in the group, the genius FBI agent, Spencer, was gay. The next week he'd found out that his boyfriend was named Derek too. Today they'd talked about their boyfriends in group. The weirdest thing had happened while they were sharing stories and jokes and special things about their respective boyfriends: the older man had begun to cry. The group leader had taken control at that point to ask about sharing feelings or whatever, and Stiles couldn't look away from the slim genius with the shaggy hair, so much like himself with his abnormal intelligence, shyness under his air of confidence, even the way he twisted his hands when he was nervous- but different too, a genius who was a little rough around the edges with social interaction, while Stiles could practically get anyone to fall in love with his awkward charm. Still, the similarities shocked him. He realized that he'd been staring when the man began to speak, "I tell all these stories about Derek and how amazing he is, but I tell them to other people. He sees me at my worst. He sees me upset after a hard case or difficult night more often than he sees me happy. He knows when he upsets me, but I don't know if he realizes just how much everything he does means to me. He's sitting outside right now, waiting for me, and if I come out in a bad mood, even snap at him, he'll take me home and look after me anyway." At this point Stiles had felt the stinging of tears in his eyes as he'd realized that it was much the same with him and his Derek; sure, Stiles was affectionate, but did he ever let Derek know just how much he meant to him? "And, with our job – we work together – we're always running around dealing with the newest criminal and people that need to be saved, and we see so much shi- stuff… sorry… that we have to be unemotional and strong all the time, so that's the part of me that Derek usually sees. He's in my personal life now too though, and I think I need to let him in. I'm so scared of making myself vulnerable… I had some friends that lied to me about something huge and hurt me a lot… My job is dangerous. I could very realistically be killed any day. And…" the man sniffled a bit here, "so could Derek. And if something happens to either of us… I don't want something to happen without Derek knowing that I love him. He tells me that he loves me and that he understands that I've been hurt too much to say it back right now. But, I do love him. I love him. I need him to know that I love him."  
"Stiles, you seem pretty affected by that" the group therapist prodded, and Stiles realized that he had tears running down his cheeks. He looked up at the therapist, but had instead turned to meet Spencer's eyes. "Thank you. The similarities between us are getting… well, bizarre actually. But I haven't told anyone I loved them since I told my mom right before she died. It's dumb, but I'm scared that if I tell someone that I love them… it doesn't make any sense, I know… but if I tell them I love them then they'll die. And, the thing is, Derek tells me he loves me every night. He knows I can't say it back and doesn't want to put me in that position, but every night when he thinks I'm asleep I hear him murmuring it to me. Things are really crazy for us, and I don't want something to happen before I've told him that I love him."  
"Stiles?"  
His attention was quickly brought back to the present.  
"We're home… can we go up to your room?"  
Stiles gulped and nodded.


	6. Confession - MoReid

Reid sat across from Morgan at his coffee table. The apartment was not new to him; they'd spent countless nights together. Still, with his recent thoughts about how much he loved Derek he found new appreciation in the apartment. The warm glow of the lamps and the sparse but tasteful decoration was full of practical yet elegant simplicity. It was so… Derek.  
At that point he realized that his boyfriend was looking at him expectantly. His mental musings gave him renewed confidence, and meeting those warm and deep eyes, he finally spoke, "Derek… I came to a realization in therapy today. I've been too scared to tell you that I love you, and you've been patient and understanding and it means more than I can put in to words. It's one of millions of things that I love about you, Derek." At this point he reached across the table to clasp the older man's somewhat larger hands in his own. "I love you, Derek. I love you. I love how supportive and patient you are. I love how caring you can be, not just with the team, but with victims as well. I love how, despite how many times you've been hurt, you still see good in the world. I love the way you sometimes snore in the middle of the night. I love that you bring me coffee with insane amounts of sugar, just the way I like it. I love your heartbeat when I feel it lying on your chest. I love your jokes and your pranks and your laugh. I love everything about you Derek, and I'm in love with you, and I need you to know that now, because something could happen… to one of us… and I can't bear the thought of you never having heard me say it."  
At this point he stopped and took a breath, waiting for a reaction, noting his own elevated heart rate as his stomach seemed to twist into a knot.  
Then, Derek was leaning across the coffee table, and a hand was in his hair, pulling him forward for a crushing kiss. After a minute the kiss slowed, sensual and passionate, and Derek pulled away a few inches to stare into his eyes. "Thank you, Spencer. I knew you did and you'd say it when you were ready. Thank you for trusting me and loving me. I love you too."  
The kiss began again, starting slowly, but progressing into something more frenzied and charged until Derek pulled the smaller man across the table and into his lap.


	7. Climax - Sterek

"So…" Derek began, sitting facing Stiles on the teen's bed.  
"So." Stiles replied. He looked away – staring at Derek's impossibly attractive face wasn't the best way to gather his thoughts. He picked at a loose thread on his blanket for a minute before continuing.  
"There's this guy in therapy and he said something today and it made me realize. Fuck, Derek, I love you. I fucking love you and I had to say that and I'm ready to say it a million more times. Like it or not, we're surrounded by danger every day, and you just need to know. I love you."  
He looked up to the man's face, not sure what he'd find there.  
What he found, however, was Derek's face, with a giant smile and something? Lust? In his eyes, inches from his own, barely giving him time to register it before he was pinned to the bed.  
He struggled as he processed the fact that a giant werewolf had his wrists pinned to the bed and was straddling his hips. He supposed that being in that situation with most werewolves would terrify him, but most werewolves didn't have giant grins on their faces as the said, "I love you too, Stiles."  
With that they were crushing their lips together, a frantic attempt to get all the physical contact they could, hold each other and never let go. It was rough and messy and he fucking loved it. Derek was everywhere on top of him, pinning his wrists, attacking his mouth, nipping at his neck, and Stiles couldn't do anything but rut his hips up in an attempt to get some kind of release. Then Derek's thigh was between his and the friction was so delicious and how the fuck was he supposed to form any coherent thoughts when Derek was everywhere on him at once? Before he knew it Stiles was coming in his pants like a teenager, which, given that he was a teenager, was almost as excusable as it was embarrassing.  
Derek released him and sat back on his legs, a self-satisfied smirk on his face at his effect on Stiles, who was still panting on the bed with a wet stain on the front of the jeans.  
The smirk was quickly wiped off when Stiles gathered the composure to launch himself at Derek, on top this time, and then his fingers were pulling at Derek's jeans. He may have already gotten off in his pants, but that didn't mean that he couldn't give Derek the blowjob of his life.  
Buttons were undone and undergarments shed and it was then that Stiles realized that his face was actually inches from Derek Hale's dick. They'd exchanged handjobs through clothing, and were no strangers to intimacy, but he'd never actually been this up close and personal with it.  
No time like the present, though, he decided as he licked his lips and glanced up at Derek's face.  
Wow. Derek was staring at him, eyes completely blown with lust as ragged breaths left his chest. The arousal on Derek's face gave him the courage to take a firm grip and slowly lick the dick in front of him. If the gasp and shiver it elicited were anything to go by, he wasn't doing this completely wrong. Relieved, Stiles began in earnest, sucking the tip into his mouth a few times before trying to swallow it. He gagged a bit and heard a laugh from above him.  
A hand caressed his cheek as Derek stared into his eyes and told him, "You don't have to do that. Really. Anything you do right now feels amazing."  
Stiles nodded back, reassured, and began bobbing his head shallowly, covering the rest of the length with pumping his hand.  
He wasn't an expert, but, he had to admit that he'd googled a few tips for giving blowjobs. What? He'd wanted to be prepared.  
He experimented with twisting his hand, which brought another moan out of Derek's lips. Licking the head seemed to get positive feedback too.  
Then, the moans almost constant now, Derek had his hands in his hair and his hips began to stutter. Derek shot him a questioning look, but Stiles kept going until he felt Derek clench beneath him before shooting his load down his throat.  
He'd been expecting it, but the taste wasn't pleasant at all. Still, he swallowed, and it was gone in a minute, and a glance at Derek's amazed expression told him that he'd definitely made the right choice by swallowing.


	8. Climax - MoReid

Derek groaned as his boyfriend squirmed on his lap. God, did Spencer have any idea how hot he was? At work he walked around in his sweaters and dress pants that showed just how delicious his ass was, not knowing just how much it drove Derek crazy, how it made him want to pull those clothes off and slam him down on the nearest table and make him writhe in pleasure. It had been maddening before he and Spencer had begun dating, but at least at this point he could do so at home in the evenings, just as he was doing now. He moved a hand up to Spencer's hair and tugged it back, firm enough to be demanding, but not enough to hurt. His lips made their way to the pale neck, and began to softly lick and nip. He briefly remembered how much he liked seeing his Pretty Boy in scarves, and made the choice to begin sucking in earnest, leaving blossoms of purple on the pale skin between licks and nips that grew progressively harder. He couldn't help but smirk at the moans that came out of that beautiful mouth at his own mouth's ministrations, though his smirk was replaced by a moan of his own as one of his well-placed hickeys caused Spencer to grind his hips down hard, providing delicious stimulation on his already-present hard on. Soon the kissing was taken over by grinding, as they both sought more pleasure. When Derek's head fell back, completely overwhelmed by the friction on his dick, he felt kisses on his neck, followed by a few well-placed bites that caused his hips to buck up without his permission.  
Knowing that he couldn't last much longer like this, he picked up the smaller man, who grinned widely, and began to walk to the bed, whispering dirty words in Spencer's ear, telling him just how much he'd wanted him, daydreamed about pushing him down on tables at work.  
He was met with a mischievous grin before Spencer whispered in his ear, voice wracked with desire, "Don't you have a kitchen table?"  
Oh, fuck yes.  
He turned into the kitchen, barely able to carry Spencer and himself fast enough, and quickly laid him down on the table. His hands roamed under the sweater vest that Spencer had worn to work and therapy today. He felt the hipbones, soft trail of hair, and expanse of chest that was his to explore as the man beneath him writhed. He made quick work of removing the sweater vest before slowing down to appreciate the sight beneath him. The slim man beneath him was panting breaths out through his pink and recently kissed lips, moving without even being touched, eyes full of desire for Derek alone. His soft hair was out of place from being pulled earlier. His skin was pale, though not pallid, and it fit with his complexion. His hipbones stuck out as he lay on his back, and between them a soft trail of hair led to his obviously straining erection. On his neck were a series of fresh purple bruises, Derek's mark. The best part? The man beneath him had told Derek that he loved him today, and the love that welled up in Derek's heart at that meant far more than how sexy he looked right now. Though, he wasn't complaining, and the sight was fucking beautiful.  
He stepped between Spencer's legs where they hung off the table and pulled him forward so that their dicks were rubbing each other through their pants. When Spencer began moving his hips Derek got a mischievous grin, and took a firm grip on his hipbones, holding his hips down against the table, so that only he could control the friction. When he realized this, Spencer whimpered and arched his back, which was met by Derek leaning down to lick around his nipples. After licking each of them softly for a few minutes, drawing mewls of pleasure from the recipient, Derek bit down softly on one, causing the man a sharp intake of breath and a twitch in his cock, eliciting a grin from Derek. Maybe they could explore this later, but fuck, his cock was so hard that it almost hurt.  
He moved his hands down to snag Spencer's dress pants and pull them off, leaving the man completely naked and spread out on a table for him beautifully. He made quick work of removing his own clothes, disappearing for only a second to grab the lube from his bedside drawer. When he returned he was met with a sight that made him gasp and almost drop the lube. Spencer had changed positions and was now bent over the table, ass facing Derek, legs spread, ready for prep. Fuck, that was hot. He stepped forward and traced a finger down Spencer's spine, drawing a shiver. "You want me to prep you, baby?" Derek knew that Spencer wouldn't be in this position if he didn't, but consent was something that, given his personal experiences, he took very seriously. When Spencer nodded Derek poured lube onto his index finger and slowly circled it around the pink hole. When Spencer leaned back for more, Derek pushed harder and began to work his finger in. He always took his time with the prep, mostly because he didn't want to cause Spencer any pain, but he also had to admit that he didn't mind watching Spencer writhe in pleasure from just one finger, knowing that soon his rather large cock would be in the same tight hole.  
After he felt that Spencer had loosened a bit he slipped in another finger, eliciting a small gasp. "You okay, Spence?" he asked before moving his fingers. "Yeah" the breathless voice answered, "'s good. Don't stop." Reassured, Derek began to slowly move his fingers, scissoring them and curling to touch the spot that made the body beneath him jump and arch in pleasure.  
After a few minutes he asked, "Do you want a third finger?

"Mmm, no. I wanna feel your cock stretching me" Spencer practically purred, still moving his hips in an obscene fashion, and, fuck, how could he say no to that?  
He poured more lube onto his dick, coating it liberally, before he lined himself up with Spencer's ass. He took a firm grip on the wriggling hips and began to press the head in. He heard a gasp as the head finally pushed in. He stopped for a minute to rub Reid's back softly to give him time to accommodate the intrusion.  
After a second the hips were wriggling again, and he heard, "C'mon Derek. Fuck. Fuck me... not that fragile... not gonna hurt me."  
With the encouragement he pushed deeper until he was buried all the way into the tight ass, not able to stifle the moan that escaped his lips as his hips met Spencer's ass.  
Slowly he pulled out and pushed in again, letting the writhing of Spencer's hips set a pace that began to pick up.  
He moved his own hips, trying to find the sweet spot, and knew he'd succeeded when he heard a sharp intake of breath and felt the already tight hole enveloping his dick clench even tighter.  
"Oh... fuck... right there, harder, fuuuuck."  
It wasn't often that Spencer Reid's vocabulary was reduced to such simple words, and Derek considered it a personal accomplishment to do so.  
He reached around to grasp the man's hard cock and stroke it in time with his own increasing thrusts, lost in his own pleasure and the moans of the other man. At some point he licked and nipped at Spencer's neck, enjoying the way his hips bucked even harder at that.  
Eventually, after how long he wasn't sure: time didn't exist in this sea of pleasure, he felt his own balls begin to tighten.  
"Gonna come, Spence."  
"I'm so close too. So clo- Oh god"  
With that the hole around him clenched and Spencer's head fell back, his breathing even harder than it had been moments before.  
The sight was enough to push Derek over the edge and before he knew it he was coming inside Spencer's ass, harder than he had in a long time.


	9. Hot Chocolate

Derek woke up in Stiles' bed where he'd fallen asleep, exhausted, after the most mind-blowing blowjob of his life. Sure, the technique hadn't been perfect, but Stiles had seemed so eager and sincere and, fuck, Stiles /loved/ him, so, yeah, it had been the best blowjob of his life.  
Something was shaking him awake. Derek wanted it to go away.  
"Mmmm… go 'way" he managed to get out, an impressive feat for whatever ungodly hour this was.  
"Come onnn, Derek," he heard Stiles whine, "it's 10 am on Christmas Eve. Wake up, Grinch."  
Derek rolled over.  
Then the covers were being pulled off and cold toes were on his warm back. Fuck.  
He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes to see an almost giddy Stiles in front of him.  
"It's Christmas Eve! Come on! Let's go out for hot chocolate!"  
Derek couldn't bear to disappoint Stiles, who looked about as happy about Christmas as Derek had been when he was four, so he grunted out his assent.  
The look on Stiles' face would have been worth walking ten miles in the snow to get hot chocolate, though, fortunately, there was a coffee shop just down the block.  
Within fifteen minutes, at Stiles' urging, Derek had washed up and put on warm clothes and they were out the door.  
The coffee shop was warm and inviting and, though he'd never admit it, Derek felt the Christmas spirit as he sat there drinking his black coffee, listening to the soft Christmas music that poured out of the store's speakers, as he watched the hyperactive teen sip his extra large hot chocolate with whipped cream and a candy cane on top, laughing as he pulled away with a white mustache.


	10. Coffee Shops and Punctuation

Derek shook Spencer awake. They'd fallen asleep tangled together in his bed, exhausted from the sex, and he'd slept soundly for nine hours before waking up, when he'd spent another twenty minutes observing just how gorgeous Spencer was when he slept. Still, it was nine in the morning on Christmas Eve, and Derek wasn't going to miss out on one of his favorite holiday traditions.  
"Speeeenceeer," he whispered in the other man's ear, "There's a coffee shop about half an hour from here that has the best hot chocolate in the entire world." He felt the other man perk up at the mention of hot chocolate, so he continued, "Come on, I'll drive and you can sleep in the car if you want."  
After a minute Reid was up and dressed, even more excited than Derek was about the prospect of hot chocolate.  
Reid inhaled the sweet aromas of the shop as he walked in, letting the sounds of Christmas carols mixed with the smell of peppermint wash over him. He sat down at a table and let Derek order for him, it being his tradition and all.  
He could hardly contain his excitement when he was presented with the largest mug of hot chocolate he'd ever seen, piled high with whipped cream and even adorned with a miniature candy cane. He slurped happily at it, enjoying how content he was with everything. Tomorrow was Christmas, and he'd be spending it with the man he loved. Life was good.  
Derek couldn't hold back his giggle as Spencer put down his mug, his nose covered in whipped cream.  
Half an hour from home, without his usual worries about the intimacy of such an act in a public place, Derek reached forward and wiped the whipped cream off of his boyfriend's lip, a twinkle in his eye as he sucked it off of his own finger.  
At that moment he thought he saw a face he knew across the coffee shop.  
It was the surly man from the waiting room. He looked different though. He looked joyful, caught up in a conversation with his boyfriend, and his smile made Derek smile. The other man had a giant grin on his face as he laughed and wiped whipped cream from his boyfriend's lip, almost just as Derek had done moments before. Seeming to realize that someone was staring at him, the other man looked up and made eye contact with Derek, another smile making its way across his face when he registered who Derek was, and he gave a small wave. Derek gave a nod of acknowledgement back, before turning back to Spencer, getting caught up in another laugh.  
When the other Derek made his way by to leave the shop he slipped a note on a napkin to Spencer. It simply read, "Thank you."  
The bells on the door jingled a joyous ring when they left the coffee shop, hand in hand, and it felt like the perfect punctuation for the soft kiss that Spencer planted on his lips, sweet with the taste of peppermint and Christmas.

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**A/N: **

**fin**

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